Snowflakes, Strangers, and Spells
by Maplefrost
Summary: Pippin is lost in the woods during a snowstorm. Can anyone save him? THE WORST SUMMARY IN THE HISTORY OF SUCKISH SUMMARIES I KNOW JUST READ THE FREAKING FIC.
1. Just a Walk in the Woods

"Hurry up, Sam!"

Merry called out as he trudged through the snow. The hobbit he had called was walking at the back of the group. In front of him, a taller, brown haired hobbit stopped.

"Merry, I agree with Sam. This is a bad idea."

"Oh, come on now, Frodo!" A short, younger looking hobbit walking behind Merry laughed at his friend's worries. "'S just a lil' snow!" He laughed, as did Merry, who turned to look at Frodo and Sam.

"Right. So quit worrying or turn around." With that, he started to walk off in the opposite direction. The younger hobbit, who had before been ready to keep walking, did not follow.

"Don't listen to him, Pippin," Frodo said, taking a step towards him. "Bilbo said a huge snowstorm is going to blow in any day now; we shouldn't be out here all alone."

Pippin looked at him a moment, and then nodded. "Alrigh' Frodo. It tis getting' a little colder. I'll go an' find Merry, you two best get home afore you get into trouble."

Frodo looked a little concerned. He didn't think it was a smart idea to leave Pippin and Merry out here, when a blizzard was expected to hit, but he nodded to Sam, who started to lead the way home.

* * *

SHIZZAM! THE SHORTEST CHAPTER OF ANYTHING I HAS EVER WRITTEN! Also, my first LOTR fanfic. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! I will use all flames to make a fire for me to write in front of, because my feet are very cold at the moment. Brr!


	2. Whipping Wind, Blinding Blizzard

"Merry?"

Pippin's voice called out into the woods. He glanced around at the trees towering over him. They were missing their leaves, and the bare branches were home to blankets of snow.

Snow was all over the ground, deeper than a usual Shire winter. Pippin had to struggle to get through, even on the path. He looked around him. Had he ever been this deep into the Bindbole woods before?

"Merry?" He yelled again.

No answer.

The wind started to pick up, and the cold air whipped against Pippin's face, making him shudder. Was it this cold before? He wasn't sure.

_Snap!_

A stick broke somewhere around him. Without thinking, Pippin jumped in fright and galloped down the path as fast as his short legs would take him in the deep snow, running blindly in fear of…something. He kept running until-

"Ow! Pip, watch it!"

Pippin opened his eyes. Was that Merry he had heard? He sat up. "Merry? MERRY!"

"I'm. Under. You," came a strained voice. Pippin looked down, and quickly sprang aside.

"Oops! Sorry, Mer!" He rushed forward and pulled his older cousin off the ground. Merry brushed snow off of his clothing.

"It's alright, Pippin. Just watch were yer going next time!" He gave Pippin a playful shove and ran off.

"Hey!" Pippin yelled with a laugh, and took after Merry. The hobbits ran far, farther than they were allowed to go, but they didn't remember. They didn't notice that it had started to snow, crystals of ice slowly drifting down to the ground.

Finally, Merry stopped to catch his breath. Pippin caught up to him, and glanced around in horror. The snow was falling heavy now, and it was almost dark.

"Merry, where are we?" he panted, resting his hands on his knees. Merry glanced around them.

"I…I don't know Pippin," he muttered. They stood there, silent for a few moments.

Suddenly, the snow started to fall thicker. The wind picked p, whistling through the bare branches of the trees. Pippin took a step closer to Merry.

"Now what?" He asked. Before Merry could answer, the wind started blowing harder, and in the distance they heard a branch crack and fall to the ground with a thud.

"Run!" Merry commanded. He took off, with Pippin following. Pippin could barely hear the cracking and clashing of branches around him over the noise of wind racing past his ears as he ran, his head bowed. He looked up.

"Merry?" The older hobbit had disappeared from sight. Pippin stopped running, and looked around.

"Mer-" A branch, much bigger than Pippin himself, crashed to the ground next to him. Scared out of his wits, the young hobbit sprang to the right and ran blindly off the path, not even in the direction of home, but in the opposite direction altogether.

_Crack!_

A branch fell, snagging the back of Pippin's cloak that was twisting in the air. He fell back, and sprung up again, running desperately, trying to free himself. He heard his cloak rip, but he didn't care. He kept running, the ragged ends of his cloak flying behind him.

----x--X--x---

Merry thought it took him years to reach the road, but he did. He whipped his head around, and took the quickest route up the road to Bag End. He reached to door to the hobbit hole and banged his fists on the door.

Inside Bag End, Bilbo and Frodo sat with Sam and the Gaffer, all of them looking around uneasily. All of them stood when they heard the door knock. Frodo, however, was closest to the door. He ran up and flung the door open.

"F-Frodo!" Merry stuttered, throwing himself at the other hobbit. Frodo staggered backward, but was supported by Bilbo and the Gaffer, who had gotten up from where they sat. Sam was behind them.

"Thank goodness you're alright, Merry," Frodo said with a laugh. The Gaffer and Sam smiled, but Bilbo looked around the group.

"Where's Pippin?" he asked.

Merry's eyes widened. "But, he's behind me…" he turned around and looked out the door. There was nothing but blinding snow.

----x--X--x---

His lungs ached. His muscles burned. The snow blinded him. But he kept going.

Pippin ran until he couldn't run anymore, and finally collapsed in a snow bank. He curled up, shivering uncontrollably.

"H-h-help," he moaned into the wind. "P-please, anyone!"

Tears slid out of his eyes, and Pippin was sure that they froze on his cheeks. He tucked his head into his chest, shuddering with dry sobs and from the cold.

Minutes passed, and Pippin had to face the truth. No one was going to find him. He would die here, alone, slowly. He had no hope in his heart, he was just waiting. Waiting for death to take him. He wasn't sure how long it would take, but it was the only option. He was sacred out of his mind. He snuggled deeper into the snow bank in spite of his better instincts. The minutes began longer. And only one thought could appear in his mind, no matter how he tried to rid himself of it.

'I am going to die.'


	3. Short of Air, and Speech

After a while, Pippin looked up. He had sunken into the snow bank, and now saw that he barely had any space for air to come into his little cave. "Might as well live as long as I can," he muttered, and lifted his arms to try and make a bigger air hole.

Bad idea.

A pile of snow sitting atop Pippin collapsed on top of him, weighing him down. He gasped, snow filling his mouth as he did so. His arms flailed desperately, trying to dig his way out. But which way was up? Which way was down?

Soon, his head started to hurt form lack of air. His arms grew weak, and he couldn't even attempt to save himself. Finally, he gave up entirely. Everything hurt, or stung, or couldn't be moved. He closed his eyes and waited. This was definitely not how he imagined he would die.

----x--X--x----

"LET ME GO!" Merry jumped forward again. Frodo, Bilbo, the Gaffer, and Sam were all trying to block him from getting to the door.

"I HAVE TO FIND PIPPIN! MOVE!" He lunged forward again, and the other four hobbits could barely hold him back.

"Merry!" Bilbo spoke once Merry's ranting had died down. "We can't have you getting lost as well. I'm sure Pippin will be fine."

Merry struggled a few more moments, and then went limp, collapsing into Sam's arms. Sam lifted him and started to walk him over to the fireplace. He sat him down in front of it. "Now, Mr. Merry, you stay here, and I'll grab some extra blankets." With that, the hobbit ran off.

Merry didn't move. He simply stared into the fire. "Please," he murmured. "Let him be okay."

----x--X--x----

Pippin was almost gone. His muscles had gone cold, he could barely breath, and his eyes were closed. It was becoming agonizing, waiting for his heart to give, or his brain, or something. He gave a final, weak struggle, but lost. He became still again, and waited.

Suddenly, he thought he heard something. Like scratching. Was he hearing things?

But the noise continued. Before his oxygen-deprived brain had time to think of what it might be, he felt wind rushing through his hair. He lifted his head and took a deep breath of air.

It made his lungs sting, and his throat burned even worse, but it was air. Pure, sweet air. The scratching continued, and he felt his body being freed, but he was too exhausted to open his eyes.

He felt something dig into the back of his cloak and pull his body loose, out of the snow bank. He rolled over, coughing and spitting snow. Finally, he looked up, and jumped back in fright.

A large, black dog, it's hair short and matted. It was taller than him, even though it was just sitting. Around its neck was a silver medallion inscribed with strange markings that Pippin's weak eyes couldn't identify. He stared into the dog's eyes. They were a deep red, and Pippin felt like he was staring straight into a fire, and could almost feel its warmth.

Then he remembered it was a dog.

He struggled backwards, his weak muscles pulling him away.

"D-d-don't eat m-me!" he pleaded, weakly. "G-g-go away!"

The dog cocked it's head to the side. Pippin stared at it a moment. Wait, was it…smiling? That was the strangest thing he'd ever seen a dog do.

"Now, why would I want ta eat ya, darlin'?"

Correction. That was the strangest thing he'd ever seen, or heard, a dog do.


	4. First Steps Home

"W-who are y-you?" Pippin stuttered, looking at the dog in wonder. The dog chuckled.

"Well, Imma called by many a name in many a place, Peregrin dear. But…you can call me Flisadora. Or, Flisa, if it's easier."

Pippin's eyes widened as she said his name. "H-how do y-you my n-name?" he asked?

"There's plenty a lot o' things I know, darlin'. But, then, there's a plenty I don't." She looked around, her eyes narrowed against the stinging snow. "Dya think you could hold on to me if I walked, love?" she asked him, after being silent a few moments.

Pippin tilted his head. "Where are we going?"

Flisa smiled. "Well, we cannae stay here, Pippin. We's a got to get back to Bag End. Tis closer than yer home." Pippin thought this over a moment, and finally nodded weakly. Flisa walked over to him. "C'mon now, dearie," she murmured softly. "We've got tae get a' goin'."

Pippin slowly stood up, wobbling slightly, and fell over, gripping Flisa's side as he fell. He recovered a little strength and pulled himself onto her back, wrapping his arms around her neck.

"L-let's go," Pippin murmured. He was worried she hadn't heard him, but Flisa started to walk slowly, her muzzle in the air.

----x--X--x----

They walked for a while. Pippin was getting sleepier and sleepier; it was all he could do to hold on. He had so many questions. Why was she here? Was it wise to be with her? Was she dangerous? Why could she talk? However, he was too weak to say anything, so he concentrated on holding on.

Understanding Pippin's weak state, Flisa walked slowly, but steadily, trying to find her way to the path. The wind blew harder than ever. The branches rattled ominously, but luckily they didn't give way.

Finally, Pippin became too tired to hold on. His grip loosened - he fell off Flisa's back and into a pile of snow. Flisa stopped, and glanced around.

Pippin had curled up into a ball on the ground. Flisa poked his side with her nose. "C'mon, dearie. Just keep goin' a lil' longer, so we can find somewhere tae rest."

Pippin tried to stand, but fell again. Flisa smiled affectionately and bit down on the back of Pippin's cloak. She lifted him off the ground and started to walk, her neck shaking under his weight. Pippin didn't protest; he simply hung limp.

After walking for a few minutes, Flisa found a large, fallen oak with a hollow trunk. She set Pippin down in front of an opening. "Go on, Pip." Pippin had barely crawled into the log when he collapsed.

Flisa smiled, came into the log through the opposite entrance, and curled up away from Pippin, one eye open.

----x--X--x----

Pippin shivered in his sleep, his teeth chattering. His mind was blank, his body was numb.

"F-F-Flisa?" he stuttered, his energy focused on keeping his eyes open. The dog looked up.

"Yessum, lil' one ?"

"I-It's f-freezing."

Flisa grinned warmly. "Indeedy, dear."

Pippin muttered something incoherent and closed his eyes. Flisa's grin widened and she laid he head down again. She raised it again moments later, when she felt Pippin coming closer. Her neck stretched and her nose touched the side of his face - he was much too cold.

Flisa slid to the side and allowed the semi-conscious Pippin to lay next to her. She slid back, and Pippin clutched her fur in his sleep, burying his face into her shoulder. Flisa smiled and hugged him close with her muzzle, closed her eyes, and drifted into a light sleep.


	5. Home We Run

The both of them slept for about an hour, but Flisa knew that they couldn't sleep here forever. She opened her eyes and looked at Pippin. He was much paler than he had been, and his lips were turning blue. 'Poor thing', Flisa thought. 'He's not gonna make it…'

"Get up, love." Flisa nudged his ear. However, his ear was so cold that he didn't feel her wet nose. She rolled her eyes and licked his cheek.

"Whuh?" Pippin's head shot up, and he hit the roof of the hollow log. Flisa winced.

"Yowch. Watch yer head, dearie darlin'," Flisa muttered, chuckling. Pippin smiled, but his face did not blush; it remained deathly pale.

Flisa frowned. He couldn't stay like this. He would surely die. Then, she had an idea. She had tried to avoid this option, but it might work.

"Pip, I gonna have tae do somethin'," she told him.

Pippin looked at her, a little frightened. "W-what?"

Flisa smiled. "Tis nothin' bad, dearie," she said. "I'm goin' tae put a spell on ya, to get ya warmer."

Pippin's eyes widened. "B-but, y-you're just a d-dog! You c-can't use magic!"

Flisa grinned. "Yes, m'dear, but I'm a talking dog, 'member? I ain't no ordinary doggie. Now, this is called a thransmo spell, you'll be fine. 'Til wear off once ya get home. But, we gotta get outta here first."

Pippin nodded and crawled out of their shelter. He crouched on the ground, looking up at Flisa, who pressed her nose to his forehead, and muttered words that he didn't understand.

Suddenly, it was like his body was being filled with light; his muscles warmed up, the color returned to his cheeks. He looked up at Flisa, who smiled.

"Now, c'mon. Let's get goin', dearie." She bent down so that Pippin could get onto her back. His fingers wrapped around her neck, and they started walking once more.

After a while, Flisa found the path. She howled at the sky in joy, and Pippin couldn't help but laugh. However, Flisa knew that they had to get back. Not even a thransmo spell could keep Pippin alive for long.

"Love, mind if I start a'runnin'?" she asked him. Pippin shook his head and gripped her neck tighter. Flisa smiled and started to gallop down the path.

----x--X--x----

Merry, Frodo, Sam, Bilbo, and the Gaffer sat around the fireplace, waiting in silent agony. When would Pippin get back? Would he get back? Was he even alive? All of these questions ran through their minds.

_Knock, knock._

All of them jumped when they heard the knock. Was it Pippin? They all rushed to the door, but it was Merry who threw it open.

----x--X--x----

Pippin had jumped off of Flisa and was standing at the door to Bag End. He smiled as he saw Merry open the door. "Merry!" he cried, collapsing into his arms. Like Flisa had said, the spell wore off quickly, and he shivered.

Merry clutched the younger hobbit. "Pip! I thought you would never make it! I'm so sorry!"

The other four hobbits rushed up, patting Pippin.

"How'd you get back?" Frodo asked him.

Pippin smiled. "Well, Flisa helped me." He turned to look at her through the open door.

Flisa was walking off. She walked a few paces, stumbled, and collapsed into the snow, her body cold and lifeless.


	6. Stranger is the Strangest

"FLISA!" Pippin tried to run to her, but the Gaffer held him back.

"Pippin, calm down. You need to stay here and warm up. Bilbo and I will go help the dog." The Gaffer looked at Bilbo, who nodded.

"Her name's Flisa," Pippin muttered as he allowed Frodo and Merry to lead him out of the doorway.

It turned out that Bilbo and the Gaffer couldn't lift Flisa, so Frodo and Sam had to rush out and help them carry her in. They set her down on a blanket spread out before the fireplace. Pippin curled up behind her, running his fingers through her fur and resting his head on her neck.

Bilbo looked at her for a while. "Why…" he murmured. "I believe I've heard of this creature before!" He ran off to find something.

"Her name's Flisa," Pippin lifted his head to add this remark, as if it hurt when people referred to her as 'it' or 'the dog'. He buried his face into her neck again.

Frodo, Merry, Sam, and the Gaffer watched in silence, waiting for Bilbo's return. Pippin remained next to Flisa, muttering things into her fur that the others couldn't hear, but it was obvious that he was crying.

"Here it is!" Bilbo hurried back into the room with a old, beaten looking book. "During my travels, I learned about a creature who reminds me a lot of this dog. There's a song in hear that reads:

_Where she came, no one knew_

_With White, and Grey_

_And Brown and Blue_

_To Middle Earth_

_All were led_

_With her, Flisadora_

_Flisa the Red_

_She took other forms_

_Her magic was fire_

_She was carefree and kind_

_Singing songs with a lyre_

_But dare to confront her_

_And you would regret it_

_For she's never been beaten_

_Not once._

_One day as she traveled_

_Throughout the North Lands_

_Slave traders they came, and took her they did_

_She escaped, but is often forgetten in stories_

_In all her greatness and strength_

_But she is known as the shaggy black hound_

_That wanders the woods of lands by night_

_Appearing quite frightful she offers her help_

_To any and all wounded souls in her sight_

_With eyes of flame, a heart of gold_

_A singer, a dancer_

_A hero of old."_

Bilbo looked up at their faces. They all looked confused.

"She's a wizard."

Then they understood. All of them wide-eyed, they looked at Bilbo in awe.

Pippin looked up. "Do you know what a… a thransmo spell is?"

Bilbo nodded. "Yes, Gandalf spoke of it to me once. It allows the warmth and life of the wizard to go into another being." Pippin's eyes widened, and he looked down at Flisa.

He did not know what to say. That is why she became so weak. It was not because she was tired, but her life was draining out of her. He had been slowly killing her. And he might have succeeded.

----x--X--x----

It seemed all was lost. Flisa, lifeless and cold, had not moved. Pippin refused to leave her side, but the other hobbits were convinced she was dead.

Then, quite a while after she had been dragged into Bag End, Flisa coughed.

Pippin's head whipped up. "Flisa!" he shrieked, and wrapped his arms around her neck. "I thought you were gone!"

Flisa smiled. "Well of course I ain't gone, love. I'm movin', aren't I?"

Pippin just laughed and held her tighter. Frodo, Merry, and Sam looked down at her. She lifted her head.

"Ah. Frodo, Meriadoc, and Samwise. I do hope you all manage to keeps ya selves outta trouble from now on?"

The three hobbits looked startled. "How do you know our names?" Merry asked.

"Because, me dearie, I knows a lots a things," Flisa told him. Pippin let go of her, and she rose to her feet, her legs trembling.

"Well, I oughts tae get a goin', I s'poses," she said. "Thank you so much fer the warmth." Flisa turned to leave.

"But, you can't just leave!" Pippin yelled. Flisa turned.

"Well, I can't stay here, love."

Bilbo stepped forward. "Who ever said you can't?" he asked. "I, for one, would love to hear all the tales you have to tell. Although, I suppose, there's not a way I'd live long enough to hear 'em all."

Flisa's eyes widened. "You mean…I can stay?"

Bilbo grinned. "Yes," he replied.

Flisa sat down on the blankets once more. "Then gather 'round, hobbitses, and tell me: what kind of a tale would ya like tae hear?"


	7. Epilogue

The night went on. Flisa picked a tale about her visit to the far South, even more southern than Gondor. She told them, much to Sams' interest, of the Oliphaunts that lived there. And Bilbo decided that it was a good enough story for lodging.

Frodo and Flisa soon became inseparable. She was with him all during the day, and she slept next to him at night. She explained that, despite the legend that said so, she was not a part of the wizard council. Her father was a wizard, and she had inherited his abilities.

She would never change from a dog. All of the hobbits wondered what she looked like normally, but she would never tell.

One day, a strange rider came to Hobbiton. He was cloaked and hooded, atop a tall steed. Flisa then told the hobbits that she must leave with him. It was a tearful good bye, and Flisa rode off.

A few months later, Frodo was given the ring.


End file.
